


If It Was Up to Me

by oddsnends



Category: Henry Cavill - Fandom, Sand Castle (2017)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Love, Romance, Wedding Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24008347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddsnends/pseuds/oddsnends
Summary: follows Used by You
Relationships: Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)/Original Female Character(s), Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	If It Was Up to Me

**Author's Note:**

> follows Used by You

He'd waited outside longer than he'd planned, people passing him by, walking into the hotel where the whole thing was set to take place. In less than two hours, she would be married, the room they'd booked overlooked a fantastic garden. Floor to ceiling sliding doors would give way to the cobblestone terrace which laid beyond. About two hundred people would be sitting shoulder to shoulder in the room, each with their own emotions and feelings on the day. 

Syverson leaned against the truck, careful not to scratch the hunter green paint job. The only thing his mama may love more than him was this damn truck. He'd been driving it back from the restoration garage the night he'd met her. Fitting he would ask his mama permission to bring it out for the wedding. On the event he was rejected, at least he looked cool leaving in a 1931 pick up. 

A few more minutes before leaving his post and walking inside, he fixed his tie and smoothed a hand over his curls that were threatening to spring loose any minute. There was only one thing Syverson had left to do.

He had to see her. 

Before she appeared on her father's arm, ready to walk down the aisle to that dickhead, Syverson had to find her. To see her and tell her how he felt about this circus. He'd wasted no time on recon, spotting a handful of beautiful ladies in matching cerise dresses – She'd laugh if she heard him say cerise. He was an Army Captain not a mongrel. The beautiful group of ladies would have been his target for a little bit of fun, later on, if he wasn't focused on his current mission. 

One of them would know where she was. 

Hopeful that they had all been too tipsy to remember him stalking them at the bar, the previous evening, he approached. A charming smile and a sparkling eye. His mama didn't raise no fool and the army had taught him how to lie like a damn cheap rug. Syverson felt accomplished and proud, strutting down the hall to the elevator. 

Second floor, Room 28. A corner suite, fitting for a bride. His calloused hand raised to knock on the door, the sharp sound echoing through the empty hall way. After the third knock, he fought the urge to shout at her. Throwing around demands like she was one of his soldiers would do little good. 

Patience was his best ally. 

“Ye- -Syverson.” Her jaw slacked and her body stiffened at the sight of him. In his suit, standing on the other side of the door, he was the last person she had expected to see. “How did you find my room?” 

“Told one of your bridesmaids ya requested a wedding car, I was the guy who was dropping it off.” Syverson shrugged. “Brought the '31 in case there were any questions.” 

“You are an asshole.”

“Nice dress,” He smirked licking his lips. 

“Get in here,” She hissed at him, grabbing his bicep and dragging him into her room, before he was spotted flirting with the bride. “What were you thinking?” 

“I could help ya take off.” His face wore the cockiest smirk she'd ever witnessed, even for Syverson. His eyes undressing her. 

“I'm not fucking you in my wedding dress, the morning of my wedding.” 

“Then we'll take it off and I'll fuck ya,” 

He was seconds away from a good, hard slap. A slap would wipe that smirk off his face and leave him thinking about his behaviour. Or, knowing Syverson, it would enrage the beast and leave him with a hard on unlike anything he'd ever had. 

“Do you think this is a game? I saw you at the bar last night. Do you think you can follow me around and...” 

“I didn't plan to follow ya. I was there, when ya arrived. Drinking away my sorrows. You're welcome, by the way,” He snorted, rubbing his thumb across his nose. “More than once I ended up chasing away some low life looking for a fuck and run.” 

“Huh, how ironic.” Her brow shot up. 

“I was the perfect gentleman.” Syverson defended his actions, the night they'd first went home together. “Besides, ya didn't complain.” 

“Why are you here?” 

“I was invited.” 

“Fuck you. I should kick you out right now. Don't do this, not today. I'm not going to play these little games. You came, you saw, what more do you want?” 

“I want ya to listen,” He was a sight to behold in his suit. Hair combed and his beard trimmed. And here she thought she only had a handful graphic tees, plaid button downs, and ripped jeans. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed in the middle of the suite, she winced and shot back to her feet, she could not wrinkle her dress. One of her only rules was not to wrinkle this damn dress. Standing before the Captain, she sighed her hands falling to her side. 

“Then speak,” 

She was a vision. A little twisted that she had chose an almost snow white dress. She was no virginal saint. He would know. The things he wanted to do to her, but kept himself in check. If he wanted her to listen and listen good, the last thing he needed to do was go thinking with his dick. No Sir, today was one of those days he had to be on top of his game. 

She was perfection. He'd saw her at 3am in nothing but his gym shorts and stained tshirt, she was stunning then and she was stunning now. Both had a way of making him strain against his briefs. Clearing his throat, he reminded himself to think with the head on his shoulders. 

“Ya got a way about ya, bug.” He sucked the air between his teeth, rubbing his hand over his neatly trimmed beard. “If I could do this without my fucking heart in the way, I'd have walked away and not bothered coming here.” 

“Nobody is stopping you from leaving.” She shrugged, she would not get angry and she would not cry. Her decision had been made, based on their last meeting, his had been too. 

“If I walked away right now, I would regret it every fucking day I breathe.” Like a predator circling it's prey, he moved around her. Taking in every inch of her in that damn dress. Settling behind her, he stood a few inches away. Watching her reaction in the large mirror that hung on the wall. 

This wasn't his choice now. 

“Tell me ya don't want me and I'll leave. You'll never hear from me again. I will wish ya both well, then off I go.” He stood there, taking every ounce of strength and pride not to turn into a lap dog, telling her how much he loved her and wanted her for himself. 

If it were his choice, he would grab her and kiss her until her toes curled in them obnoxiously high heels. If this was his choice, he would grab her, kiss her, and never stop. If this was his choice, he would grab her, kiss her, never stop, and keep her forever. 

If he had any control over this, he wouldn't need her. He wouldn't crave her or see her every time he closed his eyes at night. If he had any control over this, she would have never went beyond that one night all those years ago. Somewhere in his hard heart, she had found a way to stake a claim. 

Love, what a pain. 

This is why he didn't get into this love bullshit. 

Love was messy. 

Love was a pain in the fucking ass. 

One minute you were a casual fuck, ready to walk away whenever it suited you. The next you were standing here begging a woman like some sort of fool. 

“You have made it very clear that you don't want me. You don't do relationships was the first excuse. Then you didn't want a woman at home worrying all the time. Oh and what about being a selfish prick? Isn't that what you told me?” Her eyes fell on his reflection. Watching one another in the mirror. 

“If I told ya that I am a bastard, who needs a good fucking head shake and a boot up his ass, would ya believe me?” He stood behind her, his brow furrowed and his lips tight. Her only reply was a loud scoff. “If I told ya that I have never wanted anything, the way I want ya, would ya believe me?” 

Frustrated she wanted to kick him out, slam the door, and never look at him again. In the same breath she wanted to kiss that big stupid face of his and never let him get away. 

“I don't know what to believe any more.” Were her thoughts when they came out loud.

“I think ya want me as much as I want ya, bug.” His lips were dangerously close to her ear. “I think ya know marrying him isn't what ya want. Not really. You're as scared as I am, shit. I can't promise ya a rich and lavish lifestyle, but I can promise that I will love ya. I swear it, I'll never stop.” 

“It's-it's not about money.” Shaking her head, still refusing to cry over any of this. Over him. “I need to know that you're not saying these things, because you think it will keep your dick wet.” 

“Aww bug, my dick would still get wet with or without ya.” He had women lining up, if he wanted them, some had been waiting for a while. Trying to sway him into their beds, but he wouldn't budge. Not until he knew she was out of his reach for good. 

“I need to know that you are serious, Syverson. You've told me so many times that you didn't want anything, it was never more than sex. What am I to believe?” 

“If ya go out there, right now, tell him it's over and there is no wedding, then I will promise ya with everything I have that I will make an honest woman of ya. It might not be today or tomorrow, but I will. I will do whatever ya want me to, in order to prove that I love ya, Bug.” 

“Tell me the truth.” 

“The truth?” 

“Tell me, honestly, you love me. Look at me and tell me, you love me. I need to know that you're not fucking around.” 

If he could do that then maybe, just maybe, she could believe him. Syverson was a sweet talker, a real charmer. Saying whatever he knew would serve him in the moment. More than once he had lured her in hook, line and sinker, with his words. 

He was a proud man, but was he too proud? Syverson exhaled sharply. He was a man of integrity, of principle, and here he was being reduced to nothing but a beggar. Begging was the one thing he wouldn't do, so he had thought. What was the worst that could happen? He could pour his heart out to her and she still walked away. 

“Bug, I love ya. I don't see how this proves shit, unless you want me to go out there and tell everyone? I will. I'll walk out there right now and tell the entire congregation that I love ya. My confession may shock a few of em ole bitties, but I'll do it.” His forehead resting against the side of her cheek, a smirk creasing his eyes. “I'll tell em how I love your lips. Your eyes, when they crinkle in laughter. Your laugh, it's like rain in the desert. Your heart, it's the biggest of anyone I know. I'll really shock em when I tell em how I love your legs wrapped around my waist, when I make ya scream for God and me. 

“I'm teasing, I wouldn't tell them that. I do love it though.” He sighed, his hands resting on her hips, fingers bunching around the skirt of her dress. “I would tell them how I am a fool, for not properly claiming ya before now. How much joy ya bring, even if what we've been doing is an absolute sin. Your face the is last thing I want to see at night and the first thing I see in the morning. Your sweet voice and your raging temper, the way ya roll your eyes at me when you're mad. Fuck I love it all, bug.

“When I'm home, I don't know who I am without ya. Over there, I have a purpose and a place. Here, I don't have a fucking clue, until you're in my arms. Ya give me a purpose and I know who I am with ya.” 

“Sy,” Her voice was fragile and soft. She didn't dare speak beyond that. If she tried her voice would come out in nothing more than a broken sob. She would not cry. Not over him. 

“Hmm?” He turned her to face him, her cheeks red and eyes brimming with tears. Oh fuck what had he done now? Seeing her eyes water all because of him, his heart was in a vice. 

“I don't,” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Fuck it, blinking she let the tears free, “I never,” she sobbed when he reached up to wipe her tears, make up smearing his white shirt cuff. “Oh fuck, fuck.” 

“If ya still want to marry him, then tell me. I'll help ya fix yourself up and we'll go get ya married.” Syverson stood at her side, a hand still clutching the skirt of her dress. If he let go, he was scared he would lose her. His heart rang in his ears and his stomach dropped. Some how these few seconds were the most terrifying in his life and that was saying something. “I want ya happy, bug.” 

This was all on her now. The next few seconds were going to decide his future, his life, and his heart. Allowing another person to hold your life in their hands was something Syverson was used to, but this was something else. 

He never broke his gaze from her, tears staining her cheeks, her make up staining his shirt cuff once more. Those perfect blue eyes, the left with that gorgeous streak of brown, were set on her. Syverson would never admit it, but she could see the tears begin to well in the corners of his eyes. He was as torn as she. 

“You should leave,” 

“If that's what ya want.” His words felt foreign and his heart felt like someone had tied a cinder block to it, throwing it into the deepest pit of the ocean. He wouldn't fight her, if this was her choice, then he was going to respect it. Quickly sniffling back the tears, it did little good. If anyone was going to see him teary eyed, other than his mama, it was going to be her. 

“It will be easier to tell him, if you're not here. I don't want you to wait, either. I'll um, I'll see you in a few days? I'm sorry Sy.” Her voice was soft and cracking. “Don't take this the wrong way, I'm going to need some time to wrap my head around this is all.” 

“Wait, wait,” He held up a hand, shushing her. “Are ya telling me that you're not marrying him?” 

“Nice work, Sherlock,” Her tears didn't stop the sarcasm. Sarcasm and all, he was willing to take her. She'd be a pain in his ass from here forward, but he'd take her. 

Grabbing her around the waist, he pulled her as close as he could with clothes on. Lips crashing hers, his beard scratching her chin. “I'll give ya all the time in the world, so long as I know you're mine, bug.”


End file.
